


Reflection

by SannahOfSkva



Series: Signs in the Sea [2]
Category: Hermitcraft RPF, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Aether Elf Welsknight, Banshee Keralis, Cthulhu Cleo, Druid Stress, Ex-Watcher Grian, Flashbacks, Forest Elf Iskall, Hermitcraft season 6, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Naga Python, Nightmare Bdubs, Non human hermits, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Phoenix Tango, Sheep Satyr Zedaph, Siren Evil Xisuma, Siren Xisuma, Sphinx Joe, Tags Contain Spoilers, Tags May Change, Vex Cub, Vex Scar, Watchers, admin magic, typical non human members, werewolf ren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:22:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27444814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SannahOfSkva/pseuds/SannahOfSkva
Summary: In a world where magical beings are hunted, several servers have been created to keep them safe. While many of the human members don’t know this, Hermitcraft is one of those servers. Years after Generik left to ward off Watchers, a group of these beings show up not long after the creation of a world.
Relationships: Oliver Brotherhood & Charles | Grian & Viktor | Iskall85, ZombieCleo & Joe Hills
Series: Signs in the Sea [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996564
Comments: 7
Kudos: 88





	1. One Does Not Simply Run

Grain side eyes the tank, a frown on his face as the other Watcher walks away. The mythical being kept inside it has disappeared not too long ago, swimming into the depths after cursing out its captors. Turning away, he quickly leaves the lab and heads to his room.

The room is bland, Grian having never truly moved in when he was taken from Evo. He hadn’t filled it with much, the only additions were a couple of books on creatures of myth, but they are all something that was expected of him to have.. that every Watcher had to have. The only things he had brought with him were several pictures, the largest being the entire group of Evo.

Smiling at the picture, Grian pulls an almost packed bag out from under the bed and places the picture in as carefully as possible. Only one other was able to be put in, this one of him and another Evo member. The bag is quickly pulled onto his back once it’s closed, and he heads to the door.

As he listens at the door for any nearby footsteps, Grian is once again thankful that the base has no cameras in the living area. If there were, he probably wouldn’t even have a chance of escape. Figuring that the coast was clear, Grian leaves the room and heads towards the labs as quickly as possible.

The farther he moves into the base, the more nervous he feels. There’s cameras all over the areas where the majority of the work gets done, where there’s a lot of traffic, and Grian tenses whenever one moves to face in his general direction. Thankfully, none spot him and none of the people behind them raise the alarm, and Grian gets to the labs in no time.

Getting to the opening of the tank from before, he taps against the glass to gain the attention of the Myth within. A few minutes pass before he sees movement inside, and a webbed hand appears in the opening seconds before the snarling face filled with sharp teeth. Jumping back, he curls up in an attempt to appear less threatening to the being.

The Myth eventually relaxes to the point of little threat, and his hand lowers into the water. The fans Grian knows acts as the Myth’s ears and the thin black strands of seaweed comes close to laying flat on the Myth’s head. Sighing in relief to the change, Grian sets down his bag. Carefully stepping closer, he presses the button that lowers all of the platforms into the water’s surface.

“You want freedom, right?” He asks, not really expecting an answer. “Well, currently the number of higher ups is at the lowest it’s been since I’ve got here, and now’s probably the best time to get you out of here. Of course, I know that you don’t trust me, since I’m a Watcher, but…”

Grian pauses, turning to his bag. He pulls out a set of clothes and a breathing mask, double checking that the mask is actually meant for water based creatures. Even if it wasn’t, he would’ve switched it with one that’s hanging on the wall and hoped that no one would notice that one's different from the others.

“I know that you can split your tail into human legs and feet, so here’s some clothes in case you want to come with me.” The Myth had moved closer as he was going through the bag, looking interested. “I also have a breaking mask that’s meant for beings like you, where water plays an important part for your species. It’s only in the case that you need water to help with your breathing, I don’t know much about what you are.”

With a hiss, the Myth partially pulls himself up and onto one of the platforms and motions for the human to come closer. The scars that the action reveals has Grian wincing, and he leans forward. Even if he exchanges the nine-meter long tail for legs, Grian can tell that the Myth would be _tall._ Probably a bit over six feet in height.

“ᓭ𝙹 ||𝙹⚍’∷ᒷ ⊣𝙹╎リ⊣ ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ᓭリᒷᔑꖌ ᒲᒷ 𝙹⚍ℸ ̣ 𝙹⎓ ⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ?” The Myth asks, a frown on his face. “⍑𝙹∴?”1

It takes a while for Grian to translate the mythical language, but his eyes widen in realization. He holds up the clothes and mask, holding still as the Myth eyes the articles. Huffing, the Myth enough of himself onto the platform to take as close to a sitting position as possible.

The tail starts to shrivel and decreases a bit in size, black scales drying out and peeling away. In seconds, the majority of the tail had split away and fallen off, sinking its way to lay at the bottom of the tank, and Grian hopes that none of the Watchers see it sink. The last of the tail that the Myth is left with splits in half, shifting into a pair of legs.

With a bit of hesitation, the Myth takes the clothes and pulls them on. There’s an even more noticeable wince when he puts on the mask, red eyes void of any white closing shut as it moves over them to cover his ears.

There’s no hesitation from the Myth as he moves to stand, stumbling when he gets to his feet. Grian quickly shoots forward and steadies the Myth, tensing at the hiss. Mumbling an apology, he pulls away and puts his bag back on.

“We need to move as quickly as possible.” Grian states, making the platforms return to their original positions once the Myth climbs up next to him. “The portal room is our best bet getting out of this world. We’re more likely to be caught, but only if we’re not careful.”

The Myth simply mutters under his breath, heading out the door. Grian heads after him, cursing as he sees the being already halfway down the hallway.

*+=•=+*

The portal room is bright, nearly filled to the brim with the portals to other worlds and servers. Several portals have been put out some time ago, the frames dark against the white walls. Grian walks down the pathways, reading their labels as the Myth trails behind him. Eventually, he stops in front of one, and points to it.

“This one doesn’t get used often, so we best jump through it.”

There isn’t much hesitation by the Myth, who heads to the portal. He touches the dusty frame, the frown disappearing from the being’s eyes. The Myth moves to go through it, and then freezes in place.

“Now where are _you_ going?”

Grian’s eyes widen at the voice, turning towards it. The Watcher standing there has him shying away in fear. He thought that _this_ higher up wasn’t going to be there.

Jumping forward, he bumps into the Myth. The motion pushes the Myth through, and he follows the being in. As he passes through the shimmering film, the world goes black.

*+=•=+*

Grian stumbles out of a Nether portal, not knowing where he is and quickly noticing the lack of a Myth with him. The blankness in his memory he knows is from when he had jumped into the first portal, engineered to make the hops between worlds and servers harmless. But this time, it feels different. He shakes his head, looking around and taking in the world he had stumbled into as he thinks about what might have possibly happened.

The world looks brand new, seemingly untouched by players and Watchers. It’s a newly generated one, the only different thing from it being for a single player is the portal.

 _Am I here because of what happened within the space between worlds? Did I bump_ into _something?_

As he rubs at an eye, the portal starts acting up. It’s film to the warmer dimension shifts wildly, shifting into a vivid green color. _Is this portal for a server’s_ world hop?

People start pouring out of the portal, the group vividly talking amongst themselves. A few notice him, frowning and nudging the nearest person to point him out to them.

“Oh my goodness!” He states, eyes wide.

“A strange man ahead!” Someone yells out as what seems like the last members of the group leaves the portal.

“Many people are lagging out of a portal!” Several laughs at the comment, along with a scream of _‘For Sparta!’_ and a tackle to the ground.

The person apologizes as they pull away, Grian getting a full view of a fake eye and green tipped elf ears. _Wait, is this a Myth?_ Ignoring the confused thought for the moment, he gives the person a smile as he accepts the apology.

He turns to study the group as they introduce themselves, accepting a two-block tall flower from a _Druid_ of all people. By appearance alone, it’s clear that _most_ of these people are either not human or only partially human. There’s even a _creeper_ walking around. A few he can’t tell the species of, their Admin being one of them, with his entire form being covered by a weirdly painted helmet and it’s accompanying armor.

“Welcome to Hermitcraft!” The Admin (Xisuma, he has introduced himself as) tells him, an unknown edge to his voice. “I’m sure you’ll fit right in!”

Oh, Grian’s not so sure about that.

* * *

**Translation**

  1. So you're going to get me out of here? How?




	2. The Admin’s A Strange Man

Grian sighs in relief, the last block of water finally gone from his rather cozy shipwreck in a bottle. All of the Drowned that’s been spawning hadn’t made the process easy, attacking him at every chance they got. Shoving the excess materials in his inventory into a nearby chest, he plops down onto the chest with a stretch.

A ding fills the air and Grian grins, pulling out the source of the sound. The communicator was a gift from the server’s Admin, the man popping in during the clearing out of the bottle. Despite the helmet, the grin he gave was easy to read when Grian thanked him.

 **_< xisuma>_ ** _why do I hear phantoms?_

 **_< renthedog>_ ** _I haven’t slept in days_

 **_< renthedog>_ ** _send help, I’m camping out in a 1x2 hole_

Snorting a bit despite the worry, the next message is one from Cub, who’s saying that he’s on the way to help. The spike of worry fades a bit, and Grian shuffles forward to head to his bed.

His first assessment of this world and its new inhabitants was definitely wrong. It feels like he fits in now, and he’s glad for that now. Despite that, he still thinks back to that Myth that Grian had helped free, and he constantly wonders where the being is now.

*+=•=+*

Going through the list of things he needs, Grian groans. He’s going to need _so_ many dark prismarine blocks to do this build for the conduit, as well _as_ the conduit. The conduit’s going to be _far_ easier to get, though, and the blocks he’s going to need help getting. Guardian monuments were never his thing. Frowning, the idea of who to ask slowly comes to mind. Opening the private chat on his communicator, he finds the name of who could help.

 **_< grian>_ ** _hey, you up?_

 **_< xisuma>_ ** _yeah_

 **_< xisuma>_ ** _you need help with anything?_

 **_< grian>_ ** _I need dark prismarine blocks, can you help me take down a monument?_

 **_< xisuma>_ ** _my base at noon? I know the place_

 **_< grian>_ ** _I’m down for that, omw_

Grinning, Grian grabs the things that he’s probably going to need for the adventure. Double checking that he had actually _grabbed_ everything, he swims out of the bottle and to the surface.

Climbing into a boat that he had thankfully left on the water’s surface, he turns towards Xisuma’s temporary base and rows as fast as he could. Sometimes he wishes that Hermitcraft has creative mode or something similar for the beginning, or else getting to the Admin’s base would go _so_ much quicker. Maybe he’ll get those wings the other Hermits have been talking about.

*+=•=+*

“I never see or heard of guardians being _scared_ of a player.” Grian mutters, watching the elder guardian flee from the Admin as soon as it spots him. “This just doesn’t make any _sense_ to me!”

The elder guardian practically _jumps_ onto his sword, screeching loudly the whole time. Grian can barely see the small grin that Xisuma has, the purple tint and the water making it near impossible to tell. His eyes had changed from what they were before they took on the monument, the white area replaced by the being’s iris. Is he _enjoying_ chasing down the larger creatures?

“Just one more to go, Ge-are-ee-an!” The grin widens when he sees the dropped head, skipping over to the ex-Watcher. “Then we can work on mining out all of that much needed prismarine for you! How’s the time on your potions?”

Pulling out his communicator, Grian pulls up the stats that relate to his health. Wincing at the low number that’s ticking down, he downs the first set of extra potions that he had brought with him. Giving Xisuma a thumbs up, the Admin heads off to the next elder guardian with a grin.

Grian follows after him, swimming behind a pillar when a few of the smaller guardians start to target him. They seem to avoid attacking Xisuma as much as possible, but it seems like _he’s_ fair game. Despite their hesitation to attack him, Xisuma still went after them, killing the ones that strayed too close.

They find the last elder guardian quickly enough, and the pair introduce it to its end with relative ease. Like all the ones before it, it had run from the Admin, doing its best to avoid him while trying to kill Grian in the process. The two fish and singular sponge pop their way into Grian’s inventory, the man looking at the drops.

The raid was definitely a strange one. Why do the mobs of the monument run from Xisuma? Why are they so _scared_ of him? Is he a Myth? What kind?

Shaking his head, Grian smiles at the Admin. “Thanks for the help, X.” He mouths, getting a nod he barely sees through the bubbles in return. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Let’s get you that prismarine.” Xisuma tells him, a pickaxe in one hand and shield in the other.

*+=•=+*

Grian counts up the blocks of dark prismarine, hoping that it would be enough for what he has in mind. Organizing his inventory as best as possible with what’s in it, he turns to the Admin. By what he can tell, Xisuma is emptying his own inventory as well as organizing it, using his surrounding shulker boxes to do so.

“Why were the guardians so scared of you?” Grian asks, settling down on a chest. The Admin glances at him, placing one last thing in the shulker box in front of him.

Tapping at the turtle-like helmet, Xisuma turns fully to the ex-Watcher. “It’s a prey response. They recognize that I’m a predator that’s been known to hunt them, and their instincts act accordingly.”

“But they’re _hostile_ mobs!” Grian stares at the Admin, a bit shocked that _guardians_ of all things could feel like they’re on the same level as rabbits. “They attack players! What’s so different about you?”

“Not everyone’s a player.” He hands Grian a conduit, shaking his head when the man tries to hand it back. Grian sighs, thanking him and heading to the portal. He hesitates, though, when Xisuma calls out to him.

“The winter solstice is in three weeks. I suggest that you don’t stay in your ship in a bottle base, it won’t be safe.” Grian frowns, more questions forming in his mind. “Maybe you can hunker down with Mumbo, I’m sure he won’t mind another person joining his group. Just ask Doc or Jevin to get you things if you need anything. It won’t be safe for humans to wander around.”

The Admin turns away, effectively stopping Grian from asking any of his questions. He sighs, stepping into the portal and disappearing onto the Nether. Maybe Mumbo can give him some answers. Or Iskall if his closest neighbor can’t answer his questions. The elf tends to be far more in the loop then the mustached man.


	3. Myths and Solstices

“We outnumber you humans.” Iskall states when Grian tries to question them. Their eyes settle on the ex-Watcher, the flesh one blinking slowly. “And many of us Myths are either borderline or extremely dangerous on a good day. It gets worse during a solstice. Our instincts have more… control, more of a hold.”

Grian frowns, following after the forest elf deeper into their base. What little the Myth had said confuses him, bringing up more questions. Just how many humans are there? He knows that he and Mumbo are human for sure, but other than that, Grian doesn’t know. Then there’s the question as to what the other Myths are.

Thinking, Grian eyes the elf next to him. The server has two elves and Druid, which are very easy to confirm due to their looks. Python and Zedaph are easily identifiable as well, a Naga and satyr respectively, despite them looking similar to a creeper or human if you can’t see their bottom halves. The two Vex are pretty easy to spot as well, despite them keeping their human looks most of the time. Those two can’t help but _act_ like the beings that they are.

The rest, though, confuses him. Tango’s red eyes are easily explained by whatever he inherited from his parents, who he talks about as if they are _ancient._ Joe is just _Joe._ That man is _very_ hard to explain. Xisuma never takes off the suit and it’s helmet, but the being had _implied_ that he isn’t human. Then there’s Biffa, who’s literally a _cyborg._ It all just _confuses_ him.

“That’s the thing, Iskall.” Grian turns his attention back to the Myth, frowning. “I don’t really know who’s human and who isn’t if I’m not including who obviously aren’t. It’s hard to tell for some of you guys. Add in the fact that it’s not really something you ask out of the blue with a person you don’t know well. Mumbo’s the only one I know _for sure_ is human. Everyone else is just…”

He trails off, and Iskall hums in thought. They nod a bit, tapping their chin before dropping some of the ice in their hands into Grian’s. The action frees up Iskall’s hands enough to allow them to use their communicator better than if they have the extra ice on them. Several seconds pass before Grian’s own communicator goes off, and Iskall nods with a grin on their face.

“There you go!” The Swedish elf says, smiling widely. “The group chat you were just added to has all of the players in it. While Doc and Jevin aren’t human, they are the go between during the solstices since they won’t get attacked. Some of the others don’t react well to humans, for one reason or another.”

“I’m still confused.” Grian simply states, wide eyed.

Iskall snorts, taking back their ice, a smile still on their face. “You’ll get used to it. Everyone does.”

*+=•=+*

After leaving Iskall’s base, Grian feels a bit more _in the know_ when it comes to the other members of Hermitcraft. If he’s including himself, there’s only eight humans that are on the server.

As to what Iskall had explained about it, despite being a cyborg, Biffa is technically _still_ human, and therefore has to hunker down as well every solstice. Including Doc and Jevin, only ten of them are players, the rest of the Hermits being Myths.

Settling down on the beginnings of his actual base, Grian drops several things in a random chest. Some of the things join stacks that were already there, making the mess less worse than it already was. Sighing, he shakes his head and opens his communicator.

**_ <tinfoilchef>_ ** _my base so far is the best defended_

**_< tinfoilchef>_ ** _you all can hunker down here for the solstice_

_** <falsesymmetry> **got it, I’ll be there _

_**< falsesymmetry>** who wants to remind mumbo? _

Laughing a bit at False’s comment about their mustached friend, he responds to her question.

_** <grian>** I can, since I’m closest _

_** <grian>** where is your base? just we get there no problem _

Placing down a bed to sit on it, he sighs in relief. Despite not really knowing what’s going to happen during the winter solstice, Grian’s happy to know that he at _least_ has a safe place to be for the moment. The fact that he even _has_ to hunker down worry’s him.

Just what are the other Myths? Xisuma he suspects is one that’s water based, considering the guardians’ reaction to the Admin. The other unknown Myths, though, it’s all up in the wind.


	4. Drops of Water

Grian pushes the man off of his base, praying that Mumbo opens his elytra before he goes splat. The solstice had come in no time, and it had started to rain part way through the day.

He had thought nothing of the rain at first, simply muttering under his breath when it got worse. Then that’s when he had seen the ripples in the water, most far larger and noticeable than others. The less noticeable ripples were long and thin, and moving far quicker.

Grian had shivered at the sight, though it wasn’t because of the rain. The smaller ripples had reminded him of the Myth he had helped, and the dangers that the Watchers said came with the species, whatever that is. The other being that’s in the water is probably just as dangerous, maybe more so.

Jumping off of Mumbo’s base, he glides after the tall man towards the shopping district. Thankful that they have a safe spot to head to, Grian prays that his friend moves as fast as possible. By what Iskall had told him, it’s harder to run from the aggressive Myths that happen to be land bound. It’s easy to boat or fly across large bodies of water without having to touch it. The water based Myths thankfully aren’t able to leave their home too long without causing any harm to themselves. All he hopes is that the rain would make it harder to track the duo down.

Below him, he swears that he sees the form of a furry being before it disappears into a cave. Shaking his head, Grian falls into a steep fall once he recognizes the area of the shopping area. TFC’s base should be around here, all they have to do is find the entrance. Hopefully, that won’t be hard to do.

Landing rather heavily next to Mumbo, he quickly takes note of the fast paced breathing of the taller man. Grabbing onto his arm and heading closer to a nearby wall, Grian pulls out his sword and motions Mumbo to do the same. It might not do much to a Myth, but a diamond sword would give them some breathing room if they get attacked.

“As quietly and quickly as possible.” He mutters, warily eyeing the buildings around them. Who knows who’s hiding around the corner?

Mumbo nods with a gulp, practically curling in on himself as he moves forward. The air is still around them despite the fact that it’s raining, almost like the world is holding its breath. The two barely breath as they move towards TFC’s base, praying that no Myths are lurking about.

Grian shivers despite the warmth that his sweater keeps in to ward off the cold, shoving down the _gifts_ that were given to him by the Watchers. He knows that they would help keep an aggressive being off of him and Mumbo, but they’re a large Batman signal if he uses them. Every Myth would know where they are if Grian so much as starts using his gifts.

Something snaps behind them, and the duo snap around. The fear that Grian feels triples in seconds, and he grips the glowing sword tighter. Mumbo whimpers next to him, and drops his sword.

*+=•=+*

Joe watches the submerged Myths swim deeper into the water, tail flickering angrily. He knows that Grian’s temporary base is somewhere within the water, and hopes that the human is long gone by the time those two swim by. With a shake of his head, the sphinx stands.

The rain is an annoyance that Joe wishes he doesn’t have to deal with, but he wanted to see his friends off for this solstice. With a new member for this world, the cryptic was far more worried as to how the more aggressive Myths’ instincts would react. They’re barely kept in check with the players that've been there for years, and Joe doesn’t know what a new person would do.

Hearing rockets going off above him, Joe looks up. Two players fly past, and the sphinx easily recognizes the suited form of Mumbo. Despite not yet properly meeting him, Joe guesses that the red sweater flying next to him is Grian. He had only seen that much red the day the Hermits had first entered this server.

Grinning, Joe runs after the pair, following after the sound of rockets. The shopping district comes into view and he slinks around a building, suspecting that the pair would land in the area. He had heard that they’d be meeting up with Doc or Jevin, and he had last seen those two in one of the shops.

Soon enough, Joe spots the flying players as they land. Silently following them, he wonders where the pair is going. Don’t they know that the winter solstice starts earlier then the other three? At least, Mumbo should know that. He’s been a Hermit nearly as long as Joe. Shaking his head, the next step he makes breaks a leaf, and the players turn around quicker than is normal for humans.

“You see me in water,” Joe starts despite the swords that he sees, “but I never get wet. What am I?” He grins at the sputtering noises he gets, meeting the shorter player’s eyes.

Ignoring the lone sword pointing at him, Joe moves closer and crouches to be closer to Grian’s level. The short human smells strongly of fear, though he doesn’t show it as obviously as Mumbo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Points to you if you answer the riddle correctly!


End file.
